


Past and Presence

by Andian



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't cried after Hungary. He hadn't cried not even after three months. He had worn his smile like a mask and it had hurt, everything had hurt, hurt like nothing else had ever before, like no training could have had prepared him for. But Phil Coulson hadn't cried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past and Presence

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged it as Dubious Content because I see it as dubious content. If you think it needs a Non-Con or any other warnings please tell me. Concrit is always welcome.

The device was small, black and looked harmless.

Phil Coulson eyed it warily. He know better than to be careless with something that came from the R&D department. 

Especially when the eyes of the scientist who was presenting it to him were glinting like that.

''It's a completely new way of neutralizing enemies.'' she said, unable to hide the excited tone in her voice.

''It paralyzes parts of the Frontal lobe namely the part responsible for inhibitions making affected people very open to suggestion. When it's on full power it basically just overrides any objections a person might have.''

''So it's basically brain washing.'' Coulson interrupted her. The scientist stopped, frowning slightly.

''Well I wouldn't call it that...'' ''But it's the same concept right?'' Coulson reached for the device, more fascinated by it then he cared to admit. 

He never had problems making people do what he wanted but this would put it in a whole new league.

Pictures flashed in his mind of him controlling the people around him, making them do exactly what he wanted the way he wanted it.

They disappeared almost immediately.

Confused he stared at the device in his hand. For a second it had almost seemed like it had … glowed. Glowed in a slightly blue light.

Inwardly he shook his head and decided to swear off the coffee after eight o'clock. 

He looked at the woman in front of him who was watching him with a slight frown.

''I take it that you've tested it?'' he asked. The woman nodded, the frown gone. ''We did.'' She giggled, causing Coulson to raise his eyebrow. 

The giggle stopped immediately and the scientist looked at him with a slightly guilty look.  
''I mean, yes we did. We had no problems.'' The corner of her mouth twitched. ''We made Doctor Johnson act like a chicken.''

The image of the stern head of the department cackling like a chicken was funny enough to almost make Coulson chuckle.

''I'm sure she was delighted.'' ''We all got extra hours for the rest of the month. So worth it.'' 

He couldn't suppress an amused snort this time. The woman reminded him of Clint.

''I'll take it to Director Fury then.'' Her face fell. ''So it won't get approved for missions?''

''I didn't said that.'' ''Nothing you bring to Director Fury ever gets approved for missions.''

That wasn't quite right but her clearance level would have to be way higher for him to admit that.

Instead he cleared his throat. ''Doctor Becker we're talking about a device that made Doctor Johnson imitate a bird. The same woman who made Agent Edwards cry at the last Christmas party.''

The mistletoe really hadn't been a good idea. Now matter how much Clint had winked at him during the evening.

Doctor Becker shuddered at the memory. ''You might be right about this, but still...'' she looked at the device, an expression in her eyes Coulson was familiar with. He saw it every time he had to take away the toys R&D made because they might destroy the world.

Or give someone the possibility to do so.

''It's dangerous. More dangerous than the things we usually have.'' Common sense did usually work on scientists. It did in this case at least.

With a sigh Doctor Becker handed him the blueprints. Coulson let the usual blank smile return on his face. ''Thank you Doctor Becker. I will talk with Director Fury about mission clearance.''

He wouldn't. But it made her face light up a bit and he had lied about worse things. 

With a short nod he exited the labor and made his way towards Fury's office.

He was halfway there before he remembered that the papers Fury wanted where still in his office.

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh before turning around and walking back to get them.

Bending over his desk, he reached for the drawer, just wanting to quickly get them.

''Sir?''

He didn't had to turn around to know that it was Clint. Cursing inwardly he slowly unbend, trying to regain at least a bit of his usual composure.

It wasn't that easy when he turned around and realized that Clint had been staring at his ass.

He raised an eyebrow.

''My eyes are up here.'' ''But I like the view down there so much better.'' Clint answerd, grinning at him, eyes twinkling.

''Don't like my face then Agent?'' ''Well compared to your ass...'' Clint's voice trailed off when Coulson made his way around his desk, to get the documents.

''No time for chit-chat?'' ''Have I ever done chit-chat Agent?'' ''Only smalltalk that makes everyone involved feel slightly awkward. I guess that's your strength.'' 

Coulson's smile widened at that. Still, this had gone on way too long. He walked towards the door ''If you excuse me now Agent I have a very important meeting.''

Clint did something that came amazingly close to a pout. ''Come on, it can't be that important if you waited for it until this time.'' He frowned. ''Expect when it's a date.''

He sounded a bit too unhappy about the idea and Coulson hated it when he did that because it almost made him believe that there was something more to the constant teasing and the tension between them.

Clint must have noticed the look on his face. ''One word and I'll depose of every unwanted dinner guest.'' He smiled his usual smile, the one that was almost as good a mask as his with only a hint of the danger lying behind it showing.

''I'd really like to see you trying to depose of Fury.'' Clint smile relaxed, the mask opening a bit. 

''Well I'm sure there must be a way.'' ''Yes, but it involves pain. A lot of pain. When you're lucky.''

''I always though of myself as a rather lucky man.'' Clint inched closer to Coulson, who was leaning against the door, unsure of what to do.

''You know you could just stay.'' He was close now, almost close enough for their bodies to touch and god did Coulson wanted that to happen.

He forced himself to took a deep breath. Tried to remind himself that he was misinterpreting things, that this was a bad idea, every reason he had ever used to distract himself from the fact that he, the almighty S.H.I.E.L.D agent might be just a little bit scared.

''Just me and you and your empty office. Stay.'' Clint was almost whispering now and if it wasn't one of the hottest thing Coulson had ever heard he might had to reconsider his life choices. His body seemed to be frozen and he almost had to force himself to take another deep breath.

He opened his mouth to tell Clint, Agent Barton it was Agent Barton, to back off, that he was  
his superior, that he didn't wanted just some meaningless, really, really hot meaningless, sex.

But he couldn't. 

Clint reached out, touching his shoulder and he wanted to shake it off, wanted to move away. 

But his body felt like it was frozen. Unable to move even the smallest muscle, he watched as Clint, seemingly encouraged from his lack of objection, put his other hand on his hip.

''You have to admit I'm way hotter than Fury.'' Clint was almost purring now and at another time he would have laughed at this, but at the moment he couldn't even move the corner of his mouth.

He was staring straight ahead, over Clint's shoulder who was moving down his neck, not quite touching, whispering words, his breath feeling hot against his skin. He could feel the papers in his hands, his fingers trembling slightly, not enough to notice, Clint's other hand slowly moving down his lower back towards his ass.

He wanted to scream at him, wanted to tell him to stop, that he didn't wanted this, not like this at least, never like this. 

His grip tightened almost indiscernible, not enough he got to keep fighting against whatever was controlling him.

Then he felt it. The thing he was still holding in his hand. Black, small and looking so harmless. 

Stay, Clint had whispered and he had. Staid completely still, waiting for a new order.  
Had it been like that for Doctor Johnson? Somehow he couldn't quite believe it. There would have been more than just extra hours.  
Suddenly he remembered the blue glow...

Clint's hand had in the meanwhile reached his ass and was squeezing it tight and his breath quickened automatically. Vital function still working normally, he noted almost absent minded as Clint started kissing along his throat and Coulson felt like vomiting.

''You're so hot Phil. Lookin' so good in your suit.'' His body wasn't even tense. He was limp, like plasticine, waiting to be formed into whatever way Clint wanted.

He had survived torture, pain that would bring other human beings to their limits and over them.

This was worse. So much worse. 

''So good...'' A shudder ran through his body and Clint hands were everywhere at the same time.

He hadn't cried after Hungary. He hadn't cried not even after three months. He had worn his smile like a mask and it had hurt, everything had hurt, hurt like nothing else had ever before, like no training could have had prepared him for.

But he hadn't cried. ''I really like you Phil.'' Moving up his neck, towards his mouth. ''Really. Not just because your suit looks like it was painted on. You're so confident.'' One kiss. ''You always know what to do.'' Another. ''Strong.'' One on his chin. ''I like that. I like you.'' Touching his mouth.

He hadn't cried after Hungary. Something wet ran over his check. Clint opened his eyes and looked into his for the first time since he had started.

''Phil...?'' The moment the realization dawned on him a look of pure dread appeared in his eyes.  
He jumped away immediately, backing as far away as he could.

''Phil, I'm sorry, I didn't noticed, you didn't tried to stop me.'' His tone broke and he looked at him, terrified. 

''I'm so sorry Phil. I didn't wanted to...'' he trailed off, noticing suddenly that Coulson still hadn't moved.

''Phil?'' He seemed to want to step closer to him, but he stopped himself, staying at the other side of the room.

''You're okay? Say something Phil!'' ''No.'' It came without hesitation and he had never been so relieved to hear his own voice.

''What's wrong? Why didn't you say something!'' Clint sounded desperate, his hand running through his hair, looking at everything but him. 

''Device.'' He had to force the word out. ''In hand.'' 

''What?'' The desperation turned into confusion mixed with more than a bit of worry. ''Why don't you drop it then?'' ''Can't.'' he was almost chocking on the word. Something didn't seem to mean more than a few words. 

''Why not?'' Question. No order. Wrong, wrong, _wrong_. 

''Phil?'' He was trying to convey the message with his eyes. They could understand each other without words. They had done it before.

Please Clint, he thought, please manage to look right through me once again.

''Phil?'' And then once again realization. ''Tell me what's wrong.'' An order. A soft one. But still.

''R&D made a device. Basically mind control. Must have activated it somehow.'' 

''That's why you didn't move?'' No answer. Clint sighed. ''Drop it.'' 

He hadn't noticed how tight his grip around the device had been. He could feel where it had pressed into his palm, even after he opened his hand and let it fall.

The moment the device left his hand, his whole body started shaking. His knee buckled and he had to support himself against the wall to not fall down.

''Phil!'' Clint was next to him, reaching out, wanting to stabilize him, before tugging his hands away as if he had been burnt.

''It's okay.'' Phil mumbled. He slowly sank down, until he was sitting on the floor. The shaking wouldn't stop. Clint watched him helplessly.

''It's okay.'' Phil repeated, a bit louder this time. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

''It's not your fault.'' he mumbled. Clint let out an unbelieving snort. ''I should have asked! I should have noticed something! I'm so sorry Phil...''

''Don't!'' his voice was sharp. Clint stopped. ''I was, I couldn't ... I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything and you … you kept on doing these things and I want them but not … not like this.''

The shaking was threatening to overtake his body. He hadn't cried after Hungary. He had sit down and then he had started shaking. Shaking until someone had come into the room and had given him a sedative injection. 

''You said something about me.'' he forced himself to speak again. ''That I was confident. 

Know always what to do. That I was strong.'' He turned towards Clint, who still looking at him as if he was trying to find a way to make it all right again in his face. ''Did you mean it?''  
''Yes.'' Clint whispered. ''I did. I meant everything.''

The shaking didn't stopped. But it was becoming easier to control. 

This wasn't Hungary. 

''Thanks Clint.''

Still supporting himself against the wall, he tried to stand up. The first time his knee almost gave in and Clint's hand once again shot out before doubtfully lingering next to him. 

''Help me stand up, will you?'' Phil mumbled. 

''You're sure?'' There was the doubt in his voice, the pain, the anger. ''I won't make it to the hospital ward alone. So yes, I'm sure.''

Clint's hand gripped his back, supporting him until he was standing on his own feet, still a bit unsteady. 

''Remind me to get that thing destroyed.'' Phil said, nodding towards the device, lying innocently on the floor. Clint clenched his teeth. ''I'm going to find however invented this thing and then I'm going to...''

''You are going to get me to the hospital ward and then I'll get a sedative injection.'' Phil interrupted him. ''Someone will come and get that thing and afterward we will sit down and talk.'' 

Silently Clint looked at him. Phil smiled. ''That was an order, Agent.'' The grin he got for an answer wasn't half as bright as before.

But it was a start. 

They'd figure it out, Phil thought as Clint helped him down to the hospital ward. They'd talked about it and they'd figure it out somehow and when the shaking came back he'd remind himself that he was strong. That he could do this.

This wasn't Hungary. He hadn't cried after Hungary.


End file.
